Fall Showers
by Kasidy92
Summary: The short answer was he was having a bad day and accidentally took it out on him. The perfect answer, if you wanted to sound like an ass; then again, he realized, there was probably no way to explain himself without sounding like one.


DISCLAIMER: The following is a non-profit, fan-based fiction. I do not own Honeydew Syndrome nor its characters. Ain't no money to be made from this shit.

Oh god... oh my damn... I did it. I finally wrote something other than Legend of Dragoon! (insert FF fanfare music here) And what did I end up doing, you ask?

A MOTHER FUCKING BOYS LOVE STORY.

…...

…. seriously, I don't get how my brain works XD In any case, those who are subscribed to my feed, just got this in their email, and don't like to read BL, yaoi, male homosexual romance stories, whatever the hell you want to call them... just don't. Stop here. Press the back button. ABORT. Those of you who do love BL and the like and are here to read and review my first ever story in this area, welcome and yay! ^.^ Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!

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How much longer would it take himself to realize that he was, in fact, a complete and utter idiot, Metis wondered as he gingerly rubbed his wet hair.

Staring at his reflection in the mirror, the image distorted by steam, he practically glared at his dampened, flushed self. His black hair stuck to his slick skin, ends curling from the humid air. The warm vapors from his shower both relaxing and dizzying, he let out a deep breath. Reaching for the fresh pile of clothes sat haphazardly upon the closed toilet seat, he fingered a long white undershirt.

'Seriously, could I be any more of a fucking idiot?' he thought, studying the worn ribbing on the tank.

Perhaps missing his wake up alarm twice should have been a sign of the shit storm to come. Or perhaps the hellishly boring scolding he received from an administrator when he finally arrived around lunchtime. Even the purposeful shove from some freshly dumped senior seemed to indicate that he probably should have just stayed home and skipped rather than attend a school day he wouldn't get credit for anyway.

Convulsing as a fit of sneezes came over him, he decided his true agony started when, in a rush that morning, he had forgone taking a jacket with him. Missing alarms and getting screeched at by some overzealous admin was nothing compared to the sickness he felt festering within him.

'All because I didn't bring a damn jacket,' he grimaced, finally taking the undershirt from the pile. 'And the fucking jock was late.'

In hindsight, Metis could have run for the nearest bathroom, hid under the bleachers, gone anywhere and done anything other than waiting dumbly against Josh's car for practice to end; yet as the annoying drizzle became a heavy downpour, he remained in his usual spot, even as he felt his teeth begin to chatter and sock become wet as water seeped through his sneakers. He knew he must have looked pathetic to those who wandered the campus after hours, even creepy as he sat with his face buried in his arms, hunched over in a deepening puddle of rainwater and oil. Just as he felt a violent shudder travel up his back, he was startled to feel a rough hand upon his shoulder. The rain was suddenly blocked as Josh kneeled in front of him, holding his black umbrella over their heads.

The two had stared at each other, faces a mix of confusion, shock, and exhaustion, for a full minute before Metis finally released a volley of curses and damnation upon his unsuspecting boyfriend. The sight must have been too miserable for the befuddled athlete, for even as Metis continued to spout declarations of their break up and promises of revenge against his 'malfunctioning' alarm clock, Josh had began to haul him into his car, throwing a spare jacket he had stashed in his trunk over his face ('Probably to shut me the hell up,' Metis thought with a pained smile as he pulled on an oversized pair of sweats) and blasting the heater before driving off in an uncomfortable silence.

And in that silent ride, and the subsequent walk through Josh's house and room, into the bathroom where he was instructed to strip and take a shower to warm up, Metis couldn't help but feel like the biggest pile of shit.

Fully dressed in Josh's lent shirt, pants, and underclothing, Metis swallowed loudly as he heard what sounded like the shifting of worn bed springs. His embarrassment at his immaturity, quelled in the shower from its peak during the ride back, rose once more.

"What the hell," he breathed ruefully as he turned the door knob.

As he suspected, Josh was sprawled across his unmade bed, still dressed in the same frayed jeans and loosely fitted tee. The moment Metis had swung open the bathroom door, his attention had been diverted from a magazine he held casually on his stomach. His eyes now looked warily upon Metis, eventually trailing down to the clothes that practically drowned their borrower.

Not entirely surprised at the low hum of a chuckle, Metis cleared his throat. "What the hell's so funny?" he muttered. When the chuckles evolved into laughs, no doubt at Metis' hoarse, sickly voice, he could only glare and give a harmless "Shut up" before starting his cautious walk over piles of clothes and strewn discs and binders.

"How was the shower?" Josh asked, tossing his magazine upon the floor. "Sure were in there for a hell of a long time."

"What'd you expect?" Metis replied lazily as he found a seat on the edge of the bed.

"Not for you to take a whole damn hour."

Snorting in reply, Metis blinked as a thick comforter was thrown around his lithe body. When Josh lifted it just the slightest to cover himself and snaked his arms around Metis' wiry waist, he couldn't contain the shaky, contented sigh and quiet shudder from the sudden warmth. The combined sensation of Josh's much larger torso and arms engulfing his body, the shallow heated breaths that puffed across his bare neck, and the stiff gray blanket that gently secured them could have lulled him to sleep, he imagined. Settling into Josh's chest, Metis closed his eyes, hoping that exactly that would happen.

"So," Josh's guttural whisper reverberated in his ear, giving him goosebumps. "You gonna tell me what all that bitching was about?"

Metis woke from his reverie scowling. 'Oh yeah,' he recalled in his thoughts. 'I was kind of an ass to him.'

Craning his neck back, he met with Josh's hooded, anticipating eyes.

"All that bitching?" he repeated Josh's words.

"Yeah."

Pursing his lips, Metis breathed out through his nostrils. The short answer was he was having a bad day and accidentally took it out on him. The perfect answer, if you wanted to sound like an ass; then again, he realized, there was probably no way to explain himself without sounding like one.

"Well," he started, averting his gaze forward, "I. . . I was having a rough day."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. . . the kind of day were you think you'd probably be better off ditching."

"That bad, huh?"

Glancing down at his hands, Metis nodded slightly. "So, uh. . . yeah. Sorry about all that- "

"All that bitching."

". . . yes."

His thoughts cried in annoyance as Josh's arms left their spot on his waist. Sensing the bed shift once more, he cringed at the site of long legs swung off the edge beside him. Before he could continue any speech, Metis nearly bit his tounge as a large hand slid across his neck and settle upon his cheek. He didn't resist when it turned his head, making him face to face with a clearly agitated Josh.

'Well fuck,' he mused in his thoughts. 'Asshole status achieved.'

"That's it?" Josh demanded with a raise of a brow. "You're not gonna tell me what made your day so shitty?"

Metis wet his lips, unsure if his fresh uneasiness was a result of the awkward situation he had put himself in or the breath of Josh's words that ghosted delicately across his own mouth. Clearing his throat a bit, he placed a hesitant hand upon Josh's tanned forearm.

"D-does it really matter?" he spat weakly, his voice cracking as his words got caught on a bit of mucous. "It's not like it's gonna make you forgive me any faster." A slight falter in Josh's irate expression visible for barely a second, Metis frowned as the the hand on his face fell to his shoulder.

"I'm not mad at you, Metis," Josh eventually muttered, glancing off to the side. "But seeing as it's always the fucking jock who's messing things up, it'd be nice to hear the fucking emo's excuse for once."

Before Metis could respond, he bent over as yet another fit of sneezes overtook him. By the time he settled, Josh had left for the bathroom and come back with an handful of tissues. Once again feeling utterly pathetic, Metis sighed wearily into his last tissue, tossing it sadly onto the ground with the others. Perhaps too sadly. He twitched as Josh let out an abrupt groan and plopped down on the bed once more.

"Why don't we talk about this when you don't sound like you're about to cry?" he grumbled, kicking off sneakers Metis hadn't realized he still wore.

"I'm not crying!" Metis immediately barked in his defense.

"I didn't say that, stupid," Josh shot back with a smirk, creeping backwards on his elbows until his long body stretched out fully upon the mattress. Grabbing Metis arm, he yanked the lanky teenager to his side, carefully pulling and adjusting his body until it fit against his own.

"H-hey! Fuckin-"

"You look and sound like shit. Just relax for a few hours, then I'll take you home."

Metis forced himself quiet as Josh groped his waist. Any other intelligible words he could would have wanted to shout were lost as Josh wrangled him down with one arm and pulled the comforter over them with his free hand. Pressed firmly along a tough torso, Josh's massive hand pushing his face against his pectoral, Metis could only let out a hoarse, defeated sigh. "Josh. . ." Lifting his chin the slightest, he was startled to see a pair of light eyes glazing over him. His own eyes fluttered shut, Metis gave a voiceless moan as Josh began to benignly run his fingers throughout is damp hair. When he came across a tangle, Metis buried his face deeper upon Josh's chest as, with the greatest care, he massaged his scalp. Eased by the rise and fall of Josh's chest and the soft scent of men's body wash, it would be all too effortless to fall asleep, especially with the gentle drum of rain picking up outside. Resting his arm across Josh's chest, he almost let himself slip away into his dreams.

Almost.

Before he realized what he was doing, Metis had slid atop Josh, arms splaying along his toned shoulders.

'That's right,' he thought groggily. Josh merely stared suspiciously up at him. Narrowed eyes were quickly replaced with a wide gaze as Metis casually lowered himself. 'Today. We haven't even. . . '

"Really, Metis?" A smooth mix of mirth and temptation dripped from the blonde's voice. Metis only stared back at him, sniffling quietly before leaning down to plant a gentle kiss upon dry lips. Just as he felt Josh reach to cup his cheek, Metis swiftly pulled away.

The smallest of satisfied yet apologetic smiles played at his lips. 'There.'

"So you're too sick to own up to your shit, but not too sick for making out," Josh continued, their lips hovering just breaths apart.

"Shut up. I just needed one kiss. I'm not gonna infect you or-"

"You 'needed' my kiss?"

". . ." Metis was silent as he tried to muster a glare. As the seconds went by and Josh continued to give him the smuggest of looks, he began to wonder if the heat he felt within was from his fever, or something else.

"Anything else you need?" Josh finally broke the silence. His hands snaked back to Metis' black locks, inching deftly past his familiar long neck and across small shoulders.

". . . no," Metis whispered with a smile. He held his breath as, with a gentle push and tugging of his waist, he was repositioned once more. Gazing up from his back, he bit his lip as Josh towered over him.

"You're a shit liar." Slowly dipping down, Josh nestled himself in the crook of Metis' neck.

"Is this payback for today?" Metis struggled to mutter. The warm, wet kisses trailing along his skin sent little shivers throughout his body. Resisting the urge to arch his back in response, Metis slowly danced his fingers across Josh's arms, sighing out as he reached toned biceps.

"Maybe."

Metis couldn't help the short, pathetic moan that escaped him as Josh suddenly lifted his head and forced their lips together. His grip on the athlete's arms tightened with every deepening kiss. When he finally felt the tender run of Josh's tongue upon his lips, Metis released him, turning his face away as he savored the scant flavor and scent of saliva shared between them.

"Josh. . ." he whispered breathlessly.

"What now?"

Glancing back at his boyfriend, he felt he ought to laugh at the lustful, grumbling, impatient look he was graced with.

Instead, he only smirked.

"If you get sick, you better not blame me."

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Seasoned BL writers and readers: can you tell that I have absolutely no idea what the fuck I'm doing here? ;w;

I mean seriously, no fucking clue. As stated above, this is my first time writing BL and was just as challenging as I thought I would be. Any and all tips and critiques are very much appreciated. As are just general comments and PM's squeeing about Honeydew Syndrome ^.^

Again, thank you for reading! And sorry to those who think the ending is a tease XD I'll most likely put out an "extended version" on AFF, so those who are in that community can look forward to it there in the future :3


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